


The Bad Dream

by thorsodinsn



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Family Fluff, Fluff, Gen, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-29
Updated: 2015-09-29
Packaged: 2018-04-23 22:32:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4894810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thorsodinsn/pseuds/thorsodinsn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Sophia jolts; her eyes pop open, wide and terrified, and she shoots upright. Her breath is fast. Her little hands clutch the sheets beneath her. Her body trembles. Shane squeezes her shoulder and tries to meet her frantic gaze. 'Shh, it wasn’t real. It was just a dream.'" || Shane comforts Sophia after a nightmare. || Shane/Carol || Domestic AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Bad Dream

                “Hey, s’just a dream. C’mon, it’s okay.”

                Sophia jolts; her eyes pop open, wide and terrified, and she shoots upright. Her breath is fast. Her little hands clutch the sheets beneath her. Her body trembles. Shane squeezes her shoulder and tries to meet her frantic gaze.

                “Shh, it wasn’t real. It was just a dream.”

                A tiny whimper escapes her. She looks around the room, wary of the ghostly shadows cast by her star-shaped nightlight. The window is open a crack and a cool breeze whistles through the thin screen. She lets out a breath; her shoulders sag, and finally she looks at Shane again. She’s chewing her bottom lip—worried, or embarrassed, or scared, or all three. Shane’s grip on her slender shoulder loosens.

                “Are you okay?” he asks. She hesitates, and then she nods. “You wanna talk about it?” he asks. There’s no pause this time. She shakes her head so fast the ends of her hair swoosh about and tickle Shane’s lingering fingers. “Okay,” he says. He brushes her hair carefully out of her face. “I can get your mom,” he offers. Sophia shakes her head again. Silence settles on them for a stretch, and then he mutters, “Alright.” and sets about rearranging her blankets.

                Sophia scoots down on the mattress and lets Shane tuck her in. The caution in her eyes, the way she watches every slight move he makes, damn near breaks his heart. He hovers for a moment. Her eyes don’t leave him, but she seems absolutely exhausted. She yawns and she draws the covers up to her chin.

                “Goodnight,” Shane says, and then he turns to leave.

                “Shane?” Her tiny voice stops him in his tracks. He turns back around. “W-Will you stay?”

                Her voice is small and almost fearful, as if she’s worried he’ll turn her down. Her fingers grip her blanket hard and she worries at her lower lip as she watches him with big eyes. “Yeah,” he says, crossing the room again. He settles on the edge of her bed and he toes off his boots. Her bed is so small he has to fold his knees to fit. He drapes an arm around her narrow shoulders and she sidles right up to him, letting her head fall against his chest. He holds her and gently rubs her back.

                She yawns again, and presses herself against Shane’s sturdy body. “Okay?” he asks. He feels her nod. “Alright. Go to sleep, now. I won’t let anythin’ hurt you.”

 

* * *

 

 

                It’s early morning when Carol finds them; she was not used to waking up in an empty bed, but after Shane pulled a double she was sure he’d still be asleep when she woke up. She thought he must have gone for his morning run, but his sneakers were still sitting, alone and unlaced, in their usual corner. Tugging on her robe, Carol ventured into hall—that’s when she found her daughter’s door ajar.

                A momentary panic shoots through her chest. She hurries on bare feet down the hall and sends hinges squeaking as she pushes at the door. The sight that greets her calms her instantly.

                Shane is still in his uniform; it looks wrinkled, probably due to sleeping cramped on a child’s bed. He looks younger, face relaxed in sleep. His arm is around Sophia, holding her close. One of her skinny arms is stretched across his belly and her cheek is pressed to his broad chest.

                A small smile tugs at Carol’s lips. She leans against the door frame, content to drink in the picture before her. She’s not sure if she’s standing there for seconds or for minutes when Sophia finally stirs. She blinks awake slowly, a little hand rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She notices Shane first, slumbering on beside her, and then she sees her mom.

                “Morning,” she whispers softly.

                “Morning,” Carol replies. She lets herself in the room and reaches to tuck Sophia’s mussed hair behind her as she asks, “Sleep alright?”

                “Yeah,” Sophia says. “Mostly.”

                “Mostly?” Carol presses. Sophia shrugs.

                “Bad dream,” she says. “Shane—Shane helped.”

                “You want to talk about it?” Carol asks. Sophia is quiet for a moment, and her mother understands. “Maybe after breakfast, hm? I think there’s pancake mix in the cupboard. You find it, we’ll whip some up. Sound good?”

                Sophia smiles, thankful both for the offer of food and for the successful evasion of discussing her nightmare. She slips out of the bed and hugs and kisses her mother before padding into the hall and down the stairs.

                Shane, still asleep, makes a small sound at the back of his throat and curls onto his side, settling almost as quickly as he’d stirred. Carol’s smile grows wider. She tugs at the blankets and pulls them over him and tries to keep from laughing at the image of this big, sturdy, strong man wrapped up in pink sheets on her daughter’s twin-sized bed.

                She smooths his hair back and plants a small kiss on his temple.

                “Mornin’,” Carol whispers.

                “Hm?” Shane mumbles groggily.

                “Thank you,” she says. When he doesn’t respond, Carol combs her fingers through his hair and, before leaving, whispers, “I love you,” right next to his ear.

               His lips twitch up into a small smile. He reaches around his body, searching for her hand, and easily laces their fingers together. He gives her hand a small squeeze and murmurs back, “Love you.”


End file.
